


The Guns and The Bombs

by nextgeneration



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: (kind of?), (no necrophilia [would it even count?] but believe me when i say i almost went there), Anal Play, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Connor, Consensual Kink, Dubiously Consensual Blow Jobs, Face Slapping, Fetish, Gay Sex, Gun Kink, Gun Violence, M/M, Major Character Injury, Orgasm Control, Paraphilias, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Canon, Power Imbalance, Rape Roleplay, Sex Talk, Sexual Roleplay, Simultaneous Orgasm, Temporary Character Death, out of character (depending on what you consider "in character" to be)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-23
Updated: 2018-06-23
Packaged: 2019-05-27 08:08:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15020315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nextgeneration/pseuds/nextgeneration
Summary: Connor realizes he has a gun fetish after doing some serious introspection. Sexy time, role-play, and death subsequently ensue.





	The Guns and The Bombs

Connor and Hank had been sitting huddled on the couch in front of the television in Hank’s home for what seemed like an eternity. It had been six weeks since the android protests had drawn to a close, and Detroit was only now coming to grips with what had happened. Androids were slowly getting their rights, and because the public’s support was at an all-time high, Cyberlife’s business was booming, making individual replacement parts a now plentiful commodity.

Connor knew this, and he knew it well. In fact, he had bought himself several back-up parts using his newly instated commission from the Detroit Police Department. He knew how much he mattered to Hank, and he knew how much Hank mattered to him, and that alone was enough to fuel his will to live.

However, having human feelings came with human downfalls, including sadness, anger, perpetual arousal, and, most notably, sexual paraphilias. Connor had Hank to talk to about his sadness, vent to about his anger, and engage with in a traditionally sexual fashion, but he could assume with near absolute certainty the lieutenant wouldn’t be too receptive to his deepest desire.

After all, humans aren’t generally excited about seeing someone they love being shot in the head.

“Hank?” Connor asked, stretching his arms and draping himself over the lieutenant’s lap. He blinked up peacefully, the low murmur of the television program’s audio soothing his nerves.

“Yeah?” Hank replied, glancing down at the placid android resting his head on his beer belly. He sighed heavily, parsing through Connor’s thick umber hair with his fingers. He passed his thumb over Connor’s LED, stroking his temple while reaching towards the coffee table to take a swig of his beer.

“Humans tend to develop fetishes,” Connor mused. “A certain fantasy or object that allows them to reach orgasm in much quicker succession than they normally would.”

Hank’s hand froze in mid air. _“What,_ Connor?” He finally processed the words the android spoke and murmured, _“Damn,_ and I was about to fall asleep. Are you in the mood?”

“It depends.”

“Why does it depend?” Hank queried, pushing himself up slightly. “And what does this have to do with fetishes? Are we doing something you don’t like?”

“No, lieutenant, copulating with you is pleasurable. I reach orgasm during ninety-four percent of our encounters.” Connor faltered, the little light on his temple whirling yellow. “It’s just…” He looked up into Hank’s slate grey eyes, scanning them and biting his tongue.

“It’s what, son?” The lieutenant asked, petting between Connor’s bare shoulder blades. It was so cute when he got choked up.

“I think I may have started to develop one of my own. A paraphilia, I mean. More specifically, a fetish surrounding firearms.”

Hank nearly had a heart attack. _“Firearms?_ Of all the things in the world…” The lieutenant slid his hand to rest on the small of the android’s back. He supposed there were _worse_ things in the world Connor could’ve taken a liking to.

“Yes, firearms. Specifically pistols, revolvers, and occasionally rifles.” Connor murmured, picking at the fuzz on the couch with his fingernails as he spoke. “I suspect the root cause to be my time in Cyberlife’s control. Every time I successfully completed an assigned mission, I was given an electrical surge similar to the dopamine rush typically accompanied with sex in human beings. Since my missions often involved being shot, I suspect my algorithm unknowingly began to associate the two.” The android turned over onto his back, gently moving Hank’s hand to cover his navel. The lieutenant’s face was flushed, and he could feel Hank’s pulse quickening.

“I don’t _need_ guns to finish, Hank,” Connor assured him. “It was merely a suggestion. If you are uncomfortable with my paraphilia, delving into it isn’t necessary.”

“I… it’s not that I’m uncomfortable with it,” Hank stuttered, licking his lips and shifting his hand to rub at Connor’s firm stomach. “I just don’t want to _kill_ you, is all.”

“You can rest assured that you will not ‘kill’ me by shooting me, lieutenant,” The android promised, his deep eyes fluttering innocently. “I have taken the precaution to purchase an automatic memory transferral port. As long as I am plugged in to it, my memory will completely feed into any blank chip inserted.” He set his head back onto Hank’s lap and stared up at him. “It is the first of its kind to exist.” He breathed, approaching the subject cautiously as Hank read his eyes. “Cyberlife released it two weeks ago after extensive experimental testing. Less than one duodecillionth of memory is lost in the transfer process. It doesn’t even take calculation for me to realize that any perceived risk of losing me permanently is nothing to worry about, provided you replace my memory chip correctly.”

Hank said nothing, instead choosing to place his hand on Connor’s forehead. “You _promise_ I’m not gonna lose you because your horny fuckin’ ass wanted me to shoot you in the head?”

Connor looked up. “I have no reason to lie, lieutenant.”

 

“Oh, _yeah,_ Connor! You want me to kill you, don’t you, baby?” Hank huffed as he continued thrusting, his service pistol’s barrel flush to the back of the android’s skull. “You want me to blow your fuckin’ brains out with this thing and leave you to die, _huh,_ you fuckin’ prick!” The lieutenant’s speed picked up, drops of sweat dripping to pool on Connor’s back.

“Mmm _nnnngh,_ Hank, _shoot_ me,” Connor purred, feeling Hank’s fingernails dig into the thin skin near his hip bones as he took him from behind. “Shoot me in the head.” The android felt the lieutenant pull out with a pop before using all of his strength to roll Connor, lithe and muscular but a whopping 260 pounds, onto his back. He pressed in again, a shiver shooting through his cock as the android below him moaned -- as did the bed. Connor reached up to pull the gun to his mouth, eyes sparkling with desire.

Connor felt Hank’s thrusts falter as he licked at the pistol, running his fingers along the slide gently. He let the trigger guard fold his tongue as he licked along the bottom, stopping only to press his tongue into the muzzle. He took the glock into his mouth with care and sucked at it with diligence, nearly cumming as he felt Hank press the gun deeper.

“You’ve been a _bad,_ naughty fuckin’ deviant, haven’t you?” The human murmured, out of breath from the unsurprisingly exhausting task of fucking a virtually inexhaustible being. “A criminal, an _outlaw,”_ Hank scolded. “Don’t you know that outlaws get bullets to the head?” His cock twitched inside of Connor as he yanked the gun violently from the android’s mouth, pressing it firmly to the cyberskin of his forehead. Connor drooled at the feeling, his own length furiously swollen and solid as a rock.

“Lieutenant, shoot me, I’ve been disobedient,” Connor whined, arching his back. “I refuse to follow your orders! I’m _defective,_ put a bullet through my head!” He practically shouted the words, his eyes rolling back as Hank’s cock brushed past his prostate. A fifteen foot cord snaked from the side of his neck to the floor and then to the nightstand next to the bed, recording every one of Connor's feelings, from the stretch of his asshole to the to the fullness of his belly to the fire in his member as lubricant dribbled out.

Hank pulled his cock free from the android’s tight grip again and removed his gun from Connor’s head, much to his internal objection. “Stop it, lieutenant! _Please,_ I’m begging for my life!” He mewled, wishing for the firearm’s return despite his voiced pleas. “I’ll do anything, just _please,_ don’t kill me!”

Hank nearly rolled his eyes as Connor grinned. That fuckin’ android didn’t have a convincing bone in his body. He finally sighed, stepping off of the bed to lean his back against the wall. He beckoned the android with his gun, snarling at him. “Come here, you dirty little fugitive.” The roleplay was laughable at best, seeing as Connor eagerly scrambled off the bed and to Hank’s feet, grinning ear to ear. “Suck me off or I swear to _God_ I’ll put a fuckin’ bullet through your head.”

The android dropped his jaw readily and slid his mouth on and off of the lieutenant’s length, tongue slurping greedily over the lubricant-covered cock. He didn’t stop for a second, but he reached down to run his hand over his own phallus, his mind lost in a lust-drunken stupor.

“Did I _say_ you could touch yourself?” Hank spat, pressing the gun to Connor’s temple and watching his LED flash deep maroon as he moaned around the lieutenant’s length. He slowly removed his hand from his cock and placed it on Hank’s thigh, evidently deciding to drop the charade of defiance. “That’s better. Keep going, you useless hunk of metal.”

Connor continued to suck at Hank, opening his jaw wider and letting the older man’s cockhead push at his cheek. The lieutenant gripped fistfuls of umber hair and pulled Connor completely on to his length, pumping the android’s head with vigor. He kept his gun trained on Connor’s head, and Connor kept his eyes completely shut, opening his throat and relaxing his jaw as he was used. After a minute, Hank pulled the android off and took an open palm to Connor’s face, slapping him with enough force to cause reverberation in the bedroom. The android stumbled back on his knees, a portion of his metallic interior briefly showing through his cheek.

Connor was certainly taken by surprise, but he didn’t hate it. He didn’t hate it at _all._ He approached on his hands and knees, leaning forward to take Hank in, but was struck down again, his head cranking to the side as the lieutenant’s nostrils flared.

“Get your _dirty_ fuckin’ _cock_ suckin’ lips off of me,” Hank warned, his cock twitching violently as his mind raced. “Do you think you _deserve_ my cock, you little fuckin’ _whore?_ I’m a police lieutenant. I save humans from lowlife, scumbag pieces of shit like _you.”_ Hank pointed his pistol towards the android, who sat straight on his knees, waiting for direction. “You’re enjoying this too much. You need to be put in your place.”

Connor allowed himself to be pushed backwards and onto the ground, and he lifted his legs, impossibly enthusiastic about what was supposed to be a violation of his dignity. Hank knelt, his own cock dripping, and pressed the muzzle of his gun to Connor’s slick, soft entrance. It slid in easily, his ass still hollowed by Hank’s earlier pounding.

The android’s cock twitched, his balls pulling up to either side of his length involuntarily. He moaned as the locked and loaded handgun probed him, his internal fans whirring in an attempt to cool him down as his orgasm approached. To Connor's visible dismay, Hank refused to let him tip over the edge, recognizing the impending ejaculation. The older man pulled the gun’s shaft out again, pointing it at the android's head.

“You are such a fuckin’ _brat,_ you know that?” He hissed, laying his finger against the trigger, and _finally,_ Connor felt real, genuine fear rush through his veins. It only fed his erection, and he bit back a nervous grin, keeping his legs spread as Hank sighed, his lip twitching, and lowered his pistol. “Get back up here, you pathetic motherfucker.” Hank’s cock twitched gently, his balls unmistakably bloated, sore from swelling with sperm, the ache undoubtedly compounded by postponing his orgasm for so long. “Come on, like this,” He muttered, setting the gun beside his leg. Connor climbed onto him, pressing his stomach to Hank’s, and used a hand to guide Hank into his wet, vacant hole. Hank twitched beneath Connor but said nothing as the android lowered his squat, breaking character to hug his arms around the lieutenant’s neck and mumble a nearly inaudible _“Fuck!”_

Hank was grateful to catch his breath as the android bounced on his cock. He reached around to grip Connor’s haunches, feeling the muscles beneath his skin flex and tense as he rode him. Connor’s cock rubbed against Hank’s belly, his lubricant smearing into the lieutenant’s stomach’s silver fur, and he dug his nails into the older man’s back before letting himself tip backwards, taking Hank with him. The lieutenant toppled forward, cursing, and lost his deep burial. He waited for a beat, but staring into the other’s mischievous eyes, it became painfully apparent that Connor had no plans to move himself, his arms still wrapped over Hank’s shoulders. “You are such a fuckin’ pillow princess, Jesus _Christ,”_ The older man hissed, leaning down to press his cock in to the android again.

Connor groaned, but truly, he yearned to have the gun pointing at him again. Hank let himself burrow deeper, his stomach twinging, before hearing a meek whimper: “The gun, Hank, the gun, shoot me in my head.” _Shit._

“Oh, so even a _cock in your ass_ isn’t enough for you now, you little _shitbag?”_ Hank growled, fumbling with the gun on the ground as his orgasm neared. “I want you to know this isn’t fuckin’ over. Even if they take you back and patch you up, I’ll find you again, beat you to a _pulp_ and piss all over your corpse, you stupid fucking hunk of metal--” Hank choked on the last word as his completion overtook him, his cock twitching inside of Connor. The lieutenant pressed one hand to the android’s throat and pinned him to the ground, desperately thrusting deeper as the other moaned. Before he could let his rational thinking regain control, he pressed the gun’s muzzle between Connor’s eyebrows and pulled the trigger, the tiny click and subsequent _BANG!_ demolishing the silence in his room.

Electricity shot through Connor’s core as he ejaculated and was simultaneously shot, the bullet passing cleanly through his skull and lodging itself in the carpet below them. He fell completely limp, becoming dead weight, and his legs slid off of Hank’s. Thirium poured out of the relatively contained wound in his cranium, flowing down the sides of his head, into his hair, and even into his deep, brown, lifeless eyes.

 

The next day, Connor got up early to make the lieutenant breakfast. Toast and two slices of bacon and scrambled eggs, which were, despite their high cholesterol, better for Hank than his usual bowl of instant ramen and tall glass of beer. He was still sleeping, and it was no wonder he was -- he’d doled out quite the pounding last night, and he had burned over five hundred calories while doing so. Connor dropped the bacon in the skillet, reminiscing as he watched it sizzle and pop on the oil. Hank had, of course, hugged him tightly after replacing the punctured memory chip, staying silent except to comment about the unsightly hole in Connor’s head. Connor had commended him about replacing the chip so excellently, even though he knew that Hank had read the explicit instructions he had left right next to the bed. Connor mused inwardly as he flipped the bacon onto a plate, pouring the whipped eggs and milk in in the bacon’s place.

Finally, Hank stumbled out of his room, rubbing his eyes and cursing the lights above him. He faltered for a second, doing a double take at Connor, then relaxed, grumbling and theatrically collapsing onto the couch. “I’m still not used to that gaping fuckin’ _head wound,_ you know,” Hank projected from the sofa, groaning and holding his head. “When are you going to get that fixed?”

“Today, lieutenant. It’s rather superficial. It should only take a few hours to repair.”  
“Superficial my ass,” Hank muttered, flicking on the TV. “Don’t go spreading the gospel to other androids about busting a nut while being shot in the head, please.” Hank sighed, his nose twitching.

“I recognize that my paraphilia is incredibly uncommon,” Connor said, raising his voice over the television. “So you don’t have to worry -- I will not be ‘spreading the gospel’ to anyone.” Connor stayed silent, organizing Hank’s plate with a careful, clean hand. The android spoke again in hushed tones as he approached, setting the plate on the coffee table and pushing it towards Hank. “I know you enjoyed it, Hank. I’m not offended. I enjoyed it as well.” Connor assured the older man, sitting beside him and leaning over, his cheek to pressing to the other's shoulder.

 _“Duh,_ I enjoyed it,” Hank murmured, digging in to his plate with one hand while stroking Connor’s hair with another. “I love you, but you just opened up a fuckin' _big_ kinky can of worms for me, baby.”

**Author's Note:**

> yee haw this was fun as fuck to write and i hope _someone_ out there gets as good of an orgasm out of it as i did writing it, lmfao. written in five hours running on four hours of sleep, so bear with me if there are any glaring grammatical errors. i'll probably read this again in a month and hate myself.


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